Lunacy – Day 4

I can’t be
the only one who, on
seeing the prompt

for a “Lune”
Poem, thought immediately of that
odd northern water

bird, with cries
haunting and warbling, but comical
features to match. 

Yet this occurred
to me between loon and
descriptions joking of

those broken people,
shunned by the world and
shut away within

cells eight by
six padded feet wide and
white, with beds

bolted down, unstrung
so when nights awash with
Moonlight gently fall,

these three lined,
cracked and scattered souls with
comical, haunting cries

don’t hang themselves
from headboards tipped and blue,
or fly away

over waters icy
cold with measured meter and
wavering lunar light.


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